Lord of Both Worlds
by resurrection-rings
Summary: When the Resurrection Stone and the One Ring's powers are mysteriously combined, the worlds of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings are thrust together. However difficult, the heroes of both worlds must come out of retirement to uncover the mystery behind it all and to defeat the evils arising along the way.
1. Chapter 1

The stone was more beautiful than he'd ever seen it. Light springing up from the old wooden fireplace reflected off its every facet, creating a dazzling golden mosaic that danced across the sturdy cabin walls. The old, wizened man had to push his glasses down to the crook of his nose to avoid an onslaught of blinding radiance. He sighed, glancing away from the ring and staring around the empty lodge that had become his latest abode. No amount of beauty could replace the sense of loneliness plaguing him now.

Dumbledore missed the sound of conversation — the cacophony of sounds, the clamoring of so many voices seeking to be heard. He thought of the great hall with nostalgia, memories flashing through his mind of countless students grabbing for mountains of food. One student in particular he remembered being extremely enthusiastic about his appetite.

Sometimes for hours, Dumbledore would sit and ruminate over old times, wondering what exactly had happened in the world since his revival. He thought of his old students, remembering especially Harry Potter's round spectacles staring up him, magnifying two sparkling eyes screaming out for a better world.

It was with great pain that Dumbledore had decided to stay away from these old pupils he would now be proud to call friends. It's always just better when the dead stay dead and the living are allowed to continue on with their lives. However great the pain of isolation may be, the old headmaster was determined to bear it in the name of a normal life for those who had always seemed to have a blinding trust and compassion for him. It was always bittersweet to think about those old times. They were like his children. But of course, they have their own children now, he thought. Children they would die for — children to whom he could only possibly bring trouble.

Struggling to veer off course from this always disturbing and melancholy train of thought, Dumbledore turned his attention back to the stone, gazing at his old friend in a perplexed manner, curious as to its new, more grandiose form. The Resurrection Stone had never before had this magnificent golden plating, nor the strange ornate script now running around it, its swooping letters hypnotizing in their complexity. For some reason, a chill went down the old man's spine when he opened his mouth in an effort to begin sounding out the unintelligible language. He knew from experience that trusting these sorts of instincts was the key to survival. But when a man dies once and comes back to life, he develops a very irrational sense of invincibility. Or perhaps this is just the realization that death will come despite the keenest of instincts even at the most crucial of times.

` As he began to read the script aloud, Dumbledore could feel something very strange happening. He felt like an arm was gripping his shoulder, shaking the words from his mouth against his will. It may have been his choice to start the reading, but whatever new force the Resurrection Stone was playing host to had a will of its own.

Suddenly, a noise erupted from the fireplace. Ash spewed from the flames, and settled into another of the many layers of dust already accumulated on the cabin floor. The fire seemed angry, flickering from blue to orange, and hissing like an angry cobra. The old man's wizened eyes widened with astonishment. He had never seen anything like this.

Slowly, a shape began to form in the fire. At first he thought it might be just another man, resurrected from the dead. This was, after all, the Resurrection Stone's purpose. Maybe the script was just something that had escaped his notice in the past. Slowly, however, he realized that this could not be so.

The figure taking shape was inhuman, deformed. Slime dripped off of its body, and the fire hissed and blew smoke whenever the grotesque form touched the hearth's surface. A single foot reached out of the fire. It was a foot that could not possibly belong to something from this earth.

"Precious?" the squealing voice echoed from within the fire.


	2. Chapter 2

A Gollum and a Wizard Almost Wrestle

"Precious!" Gollum let out a howl so intense and shrill upon the sight of his beloved precious that a crack immediately appeared on Dumbledore's old, half-moon shaped spectacles.

Never before had the most powerful wizard in history been so surprised. Here in front of him was a squealing creature calling him precious and he had absolutely no idea how to respond. Instinctively, he reached for his wand but found nothing. He groaned. If you can't expect people to have the decency to leave your wand alone while your gone, one should really be allowed to take it with them to the Afterlife. It surely would've saved a lot of trouble back in the day.

Suddenly, Gollum lunged. His squeals echoed throughout the old cabin as his skinny limbs flailed in the air. Dumbledore was knocked off his feet in surprise, dropping the ring and rolling off in a ball. As the strange creature rapidly approached, Dumbledore closed his eyes and rolled into the fetal position. Surely he'd done it now. Surely this was the end. And he wasn't coming back this time. He should never have given in to his stupid curiosity. He should've stayed snuggled up in his nice, warm cabin, making hot cocoa and sitting by the fire. But now this little slime monster was going to kill him.

And yet there was silence. All but for a soft whisper.

Slowly, Dumbledore opened his eyes and steadily climbed to his feet. Miraculously, his glasses had stayed on his face the entire time. Looking over to his grungy new companion, he saw something he was no stranger to. Obsession.

Gollum was crouched over the stone, holding the glittering relic to the light, examining it at every possible angle. He ran his fingers over every swoop of the ancient lettering and held the ring up to his face, caressing it with an unsettling admiration. "My precious," he whispered. "My precious is back. We are back my precious."

"Umm, excuse me my dear chap, but could explain to me what in devil's name is happening here?"

Gollum paid him absolutely no mind, as if all he could hear was the soft whispers of temptation emanating from the ring.

Seeing that no help could be found from this poor old creature, Dumbledore moved along to the only other thing he knew might work. Limping slightly as a result of his little tumble, Dumbledore walked to his small kitchen, lined with old cabinets covered by doors barely hanging on their hinges. He went over to his stove, surprisingly well-kept in comparison to the rest of his dilapidated home.

The stove was polished to perfection, its black marble reflecting light from the fireplace. Dumbledore placed his hand on the stove handle and pulled slightly, but not enough to open the door all the way. After muttering a few words under his breath, a soft white light began to shimmer from within the belly of the oven, and a large grinding noise came from somewhere much deeper. The cabin began to shake.

Dumbledore watched on with patience as Gollum sat in the corner, obliviously fondling his ring, and as cabinets and countertops began to move slowly but steadily apart. In the middle of the kitchen arose a small door, which swung open to reveal a short spiral staircase. With a sigh, Dumbledore realized he had some climbing to do.

After much moaning, groaning, and shifting about he was finally able to reach the bottom of the staircase.

The smell of old books and home hit him like a ton of bricks, making him smile upon impact. He wished Hagrid had told him about this little secret before he moved out.

Before him was the Hogwarts Library. Maybe here he would be able to find some answers.


	3. Chapter 3

A Letter From An Old Friend

"Freeze!" Harry yelled as he pointed up his wand at the masked stranger.

The man stopped, realizing he had reached a dead end, unable to run any farther down the dark alleyway in which he had sought refuge. He sighed. This was the third time in a row.

Thoroughly embarrassed, he turned slowly around and began to take off his mask.

"Hands where I can see them!" Harry shouted. He swore it looked like that ski mask was turning red.

"Good golly no need to get so worked up!"

Harry growled, "Mundungus!"

Mundungus Fletcher tore off his mask and revealed a quite unfortunate sight. The years had not been kind to Mr. Fletcher.

Instead of moles there were now boils, instead of eyes there were now flabby eye sockets, and in place of a nose there was a huge monstrosity of bulbous proportions.

"Come on ole buddy ole pal, just give a guy a break!" Mundungus sniveled, his voice like nails on a chalkboard.

"This is the third time in a row Fletcher!" Harry was furious. "I had to stop interrogating a murder suspect for this!"

Mundungus shrunk back into the dark alleyway corner, resorting once again to his gross snivel. "Come on 'arry! It was just a pair of gloves. I've gotta keep warm you know! It's hard times out there!"

"It's hard times for everyone you dolt!" Harry growled, "even harder when thieves like you are running about."

Mundungus's chest swelled and his face turned radish red, "Now you listen here you Harry Potter, I ain't no thief and you know it!"

Harry sighed. He just didn't have the heart to put Mundungus in jail. He wouldn't last two seconds. But he had to learn somehow. It was becoming a real pain for Harry to just drop everything so he could chase down Mundungus Fletcher in a ski mask.

Suddenly, he grinned as a plan came to mind.

Before he could open his tiny little mouth again, Mundungus Fletcher suddenly found himself hanging straight upside down, suspended in midair by his very expensive looking trousers.

* * *

"Ginny, I'm home!" Harry decided to come straight home after the Mundungus incident- better to end the day with a little bit of entertainment.

"Hey!" Ginny's voice could be heard from somewhere upstairs. "There's a stack of letters for you on the table!"

"Why didn't you just throw them out like the rest?!" Harry asked, making a rather rude face.

"Oh you know how Albus likes to read your fan mail!"

Harry decided not to argue, heading for the letters. He guessed it was good for his son to look up to him and all, but he'd much rather it be for his actions now than what he did as a kid.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, "like the great escapades of Mundungus Fletcher."

He sat down at his desk and tried to decide which one to open first. He noticed one with an interesting marking. He'd never seen anything like it.

Taking his letter opener, Harry sliced the top off of the mysterious envelope and pulled out a yellowed old piece of parchment. It read:

_Harry,_

_We have something to discuss._

_Come quickly,come alone,_

_Dumbledore_

_P.S. Oh I almost forgot, I'm at Hogwarts_

"Ginny!"

* * *

The early morning sun filtered through the olive colored shades in Harry's bedroom, making his eyes blink open. Stretching his arms and yawning silently, he thought about the day ahead. He had some paperwork to do in the office, the Minister wanted him to testify at some court hearing, he heard about some mysterious muggle bank robbery, it would probably be a good idea to look into that- wait. How could he have forgotten?!

Catapulting out of bed, Harry grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and put on his slippers in one quick, fluid motion. He ran to the closet where he quickly put on his best suit, grinning when he caught a glimpse of his old Gryffindor scarf hanging in the back and put it on. He slipped on his shoes and tucked his wand into his inside jacket pocket as he sprinted down the stairs. In the whirlwind of excitement, he only stopped once on his way out.

He touched the doorknob, and halted, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He knew Ginny would kill him when she found out he went by himself, but if he had learned anything during his time at Hogwarts, it was to do what Dumbledore told him. Sighing, he pushed open the door and joined the heavy flow of London traffic. He hoped she wouldn't slap him too hard when he came home.

He walked to the corner of the street and waited for what seemed like an eternity for a taxi to pull up and let him in.

"King's Cross Station, step on it."

"Don't you want to wait for your wife?"

"What?" Harry said, suddenly concerned. He had never seen this taxi driver before.

"Your wife, sir. The one you just slammed the door on."

Harry whipped his head around, and red hair was the first thing he saw. The next was a toe tapping impatiently inside a pair of black flats. The speed with which jumped out of the taxi was extraordinary, and the gentlemanly manner in which he opened the door for his wife was quite impressive to the old taxi driver, who was chuckling to himself softly.

"Honey, I was wondering where you were."

"Mhmmm," Ginny said, turning her attention to the taxi driver. "King's Cross Station. Step on it."

"Yes ma'am!"

* * *

Harry could see Ron was very much enjoying himself in the driver's seat of the old Hogwarts Express. He could barely control his laughter when they found a red and yellow conductor's cap, which Ron hurriedly donned upon his flaming red hair. He looked ridiculous- although never happier. He did mention, however, that he was quite disappointed there wasn't a matching hat for Hermione. She was, as you can imagine, very disappointed herself.

It was a surprisingly smooth ride considering the driver, which Ginny was quick to point out. The train practically operated itself. Only one thing important was really left to the conductor- the horn. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione counted themselves lucky that they didn't go deaf on that train ride.

"You think you're ever gonna get tired of that horn, mate?" Harry asked, trying to be as nice as possible.

Completely oblivious, Ron answered gleefully, "Oh no, I could never get tired of this thing!" The other three groaned upon hearing those words.

At one particular time, while Ron was contentedly blowing his horn and Ginny was in the loo, Harry and Hermione were catching up on old times when something caught Hermione's eye. "Wait a minute, is that who I think it is?!" Ron let off the horn, wide-eyed with bewilderment.

Standing right, smack-dab in the middle of the track was Luna Lovegood.

"Brakes Ron, brakes!"

Ron quickly found the brake lever and pulled as hard as he could, the train grinding to a halt. If it were any other train, Luna would have been squished within seconds. But the Hogwarts Express didn't run people over- however uncomfortable that might be for its passengers.

The train came to an immediate stop, sending Hermione, Harry, and Ron all flying at the windshield. Their cheeks and noses squished up against the glass upon contact. One can only imagine what Ginny might have gone through in the bathroom.

Luna looked completely serene as always, like she hadn't just gotten run over by a train. "Why hello everyone. Dumbledore told me I might find you here."

* * *

"So do you know what this is about Luna?" Hermione asked after everyone had once again settled down on the Hogwarts Express and Ron had gone back to his horn blowing.

"Well, actually, he did mention one thing in his letter, said a creature needed taking care of or something but I don't think that had anything to do with this little quest."

"Did he happen to mention how he came back from the dead?" Ginny asked over the whistle of Ron's new hobby.

"No clue," Luna said. "I think we'll just have to find out...but..."

"But what?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Luna began to speak.

"RON STOP MAKING THAT INFERNAL NOISE!" Clearly Ginny had had enough.

Ron sheepishly turned his full attention to the conversation, thoroughly embarrassed and red-faced.

Luna cleared her throat, "Well, I i just have a feeling this is something bigger than we've ever faced before."

Everyone looked at each other, afraid to say aloud what they were all thinking.

"How could it be bigger?"

"I don't know," Luna said. "But Dumbledore is asking for _help. _And something Dumbledore can't figure out for himself is no joke. I mean, the man might've very well brought himself back from the dead."

The five young wizards looked at each other, suddenly afraid for the first time since that last year at Hogwarts.

* * *

Dumbledore had never looked better. He looked around the old oaken table, hidden away in a corner of the Restricted Section. It had been awhile since he had seen these five young wizards. He looked at Harry, remembering the last time they had seen each other- such a tragic adventure.

Hermione had naturally already began digging through the pile of books Dumbledore had assembled on the table. There was much eye rolling as Hermione let out frequent gasps while she read through the material Dumbledore had been pouring over for many sleepless nights. Ron simply could not understand why she wasn't taking advantage of the feast the headmaster had prepared for them.

Waiting for them upon arrival was a mountain of food reminiscent of those old Hogwarts days, when the Great Hall shimmered with bright white light, and echoed with the laughter of children and ghosts alike. Ron immediately went after turkey legs and buttered rolls, not even noticing the man sitting patiently next to it all, watching on with an amused twinkle in his eye. "Is everything to your liking ?"

"Oh yes, yes, top notch," Ron muttered, both his intelligence and manners melting away upon the taste of good food. Harry nudged him to slow down.

"So, we're curious professor," Luna said after a moment of awkward silence, in which the sound of Ron's chomping and Hermione's gasps were the only noises to be heard. A noisy couple.

There was a pause, long, awkward.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Here it is." He pulled a book from under the nose of a very irate Hermione and opened it to a dog-eared page.

"Turns out this world we know is not the only one my friends. We are not alone."

The five wizards gathered around the table, looking at each other with fear and apprehension. Outside, the sky was gray, and rain was pouring down in sheets. Droplets stuck to the stained glass windows, which lined the wall of the Hogwarts Library.

"There is a world beyond ours, one called Middle Earth if my research is correct," Dumbledore said. "Which it always is."

For hours, the group learned of the Hobbit, and the wizard, and the creature who went by the name of Gollum. They were engrossed in the tales of how the One Ring was destroyed and the loss and victory which lead to its final decimation. What they were hearing sounded as if it were coming from fantasy, but somehow they knew it had to be real. Because once he was finished telling his tale, out of his pocket Dumbledore pulled the One Ring.

It gleamed with light, illuminating all of their eyes with wonder.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "How?"

"I believe I know the answer," Dumbledore said, bowing his head slightly. "But I have to say, I'm a bit ashamed to share it."


	4. Chapter 4

Revealed

"What is it Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

The innocence of his still youthful eyes, looking at the old wizard with an unswerving trust, made Dumbledore wince with guilt.

"You can tell us anything sir," said Luna.

"It's just not something that's so easy to say," Dumbledore's voice quavered, for the first time showing an emotion that Harry, and especially not anyone else, had ever seen show through those piercing blue eyes and half-moon shaped spectacles. It was guilt, mixed with a grief immeasurable. Instinctively, Hermione reached out her hand and grasped his old, wrinkly, wise hands.

"Sir, we need to know."

For some reason it was with those words that Dumbledore suddenly changed, as if realizing that his own feelings could not be the most important thing. He remembered Horace Slughorn. There was a real danger out there, a threat that had not seen an equal in many years, and the information that he so wished to withhold simply could not be kept in the dark. In one large breath, he suddenly became that portrait of composure and wisdom so familiar to the students of Hogwarts. Harry wondered if, behind closed doors, this was the real Dumbledore.

"Well," he said gesturing to the One Ring, "I believe this right here used to be a horcrux."

A long pause hung in the air for several moments.

"My horcrux."

Never before had Hermione been at such a loss for words. It was as if a switch, the one that was in charge of running that incessant factory of questions and debates which she called a mind, had just broken. She could not think, could not feel, and her jaw simply could not bring itself to close. (Ron had a fleeting fantasy in which this happened every Sunday when the Quidditch game was on).

It was, surprisingly, Ginny who spoke first. She was always one to put things in perspective. "So what, one person more in the millions that die every day, and we get our headmaster back?" She looked from Dumbledore, who had a slightly shocked, yet deeply grateful, expression on his face, to her friends. "I mean, it's not like he murdered some innocent muggle right?"

She looked back to Dumbledore, "right?"

He bowed his head, looking sheepishly at the ground, "I'm fairly certain he was a Death Eater."

"See!" Ginny looked around, slightly exasperated at her friends' unchanging expressions.

Harry was the first to recover.

"She's right Dumbledore. I'm just glad to have you back." But in the back of his mind, he knew something wasn't right. The guilt that Dumbledore was showing simply did not match killing a Death Eater for personal gain. But then again, it could just be the memory of what the horcrux had done to them before, of all the evil that had come from its many uses. And, of course, one couldn't help but make certain comparisons, however fleeting they might appear in someone's thoughts.

"But how does it all connect?" Luna asked, a question that would've have been on Hermione's mind too if she wasn't just waking from a small coma. Ginny made a mental note to talk to her about that later. Never before had she acted this way, with such shock and complete unresponsiveness. It was as if, for a moment, she was a bear in hibernation.

"That," Dumbledore said, quite relieved to be changing topics, "is actually quite interesting."

He looked through his mountainous pile of books, pulling out one from somewhere in the middle of the stack. Pulling out his wand, he muttered a couple words under his breath and the book opened immediately to the desired page. Now facing all of the young wizards was a picture of Mt. Doom., the roaring pit of fire down which the One Ring was sent to be destroyed.

"You see, I believe it was a gateway," Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with excitement, but at the same time a frown creeped out around the edges of his mouth. Fear and apprehension filled the room, as well as several questions from Hermione.

"So Middle Earth has its own portkey and the hobbit sent us his ring," Ron muttered under his breath. "Who would've thunk it?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione asked, "but if this came from Middle Earth after you died, then how was it a horcrux?"

"Ahh," Dumbledore said, "Why don't you take a closer look Hermione."

Up to this point, the Ring had been sitting untouched on the table, as if no one wanted to put a hand on it for fear of being sucked into Frodo's living room. Now, however, curiosity got the best of them. All clambering to get a good look, the five almost instantly saw something familiar in it's glimmering gold surface.

"The Resurrection Stone," Harry breathed.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "seems as if our old friend has a hidden power."

"You mean to say," Luna said, wide-eyed, "The Resurrection Stone is a gateway between worlds too, just like Mt. Doom?"

Dumbledore nodded heavily. "When I opened a path from the Afterlife through the Stone, I also inadvertently created a connection with another world. And the Stone didn't just combine with the One Ring," he breathed deeply,"It also let out a couple things I believe to be much more treacherous."


	5. Chapter 5

Spirit Unleashed

Over the small English town hung a dark, foreboding cloud. The people of this town, unfamiliar with anything outside of the thick stone gates of their little community, were completely unaware of the fact that they were the only area within fifty miles to be experiencing such a storm. Citizens scurried about the town square, rushing to get inside before the rain started to pour.

Jake, a boy of twelve, was much confused by all the worry. Gazing up at the sky, his emerald eyes sparkling with wonder, he thought about what it would be like to ride out a storm like that. He pictured himself sitting atop the town's bell tower, rain and wind pushing against him, lightning making the sky glow an electric white. He glanced mischievously over at his mother, standing not far away, chatting with one of the other villagers.

He thought about what she would do when she realized he was gone. Probably ground him- for life. He cringed, thinking about the inevitable shouting match. But something about that cloud seemed to call to him. He swore he could almost hear whispers coming from above. "Come on Jake, be adventurous, you only live once."

Smiling, once again thinking about the top of that bell tower, he broke into a sprint. No one even noticed him streaking through the Town Square, racing off on his new adventure.

It wasn't long before he reached the church, along with its beautifully ornate tower and bell. Clambering up a steep spiral staircase he had spent much time exploring as a young boy, Jake soon reached the top of the tower, looking out onto his little town. The thunder rumbled deeply and it began to ran.

At first it was exciting. The water sloshing around him and the thunder shaking the precarious perch beneath him gave Jake the feeling of a great adventurer- perhaps a seafaring pirate. He imagined sailing the seven seas, plundering coastal towns and victoriously returning to his ship with chests filled with gold.

"It could be all yours you know," the voice came out of nowhere, almost causing Jake to tumble from his stoop.

He looked into the sky, dazed and confused. "Who's there?"

"My name is Lord Sauron," the voice boomed louder than the thunder crackling in the sky.

Jake's eyes were wide with shock and his heart began pumping hard, adrenaline rushing through his system.

"W-what do you want?" he tried to sound brave, but could not quite muster the courage he wished he had.

"To make your dreams come true, young boy, to ask you to let me in."

"Let you in where?"

"Into your soul boy, the only place where I will have the power to make you into somebody."

Jake sort of liked the sound of that, of being somebody. And that voice, so deep and trustworthy, dripping with temptation.

"Yes, you would like that wouldn't you," the voice said. "Well all you need is to say one word- yessss," Sauron hissed, sensing he was already breaking down the will of his victim. The advantage of picking children.

Now completely unaware of himself, thinking only of adventure and glory, Jake uttered the word that would change the fate of his world.

"Yes."

And the spirit of Sauron slipped into him.


	6. Chapter 6

More Secrets in the Girls' Bathroom

Luna, Ginny, and Hermione gathered around the sinks in the girls' bathroom, the only place where they would be left alone to talk. "So what are you saying? Is this why you were acting so strangely earlier?" Ginny asked Hermione, wondering exactly what she was implying.

It hadn't been easy for Ginny to get Luna and Hermione's attention without the guys noticing, especially when Hermione was looking as if she had just been hit with a baseball bat, and Dumbledore peering over everyone with those eyes that seemed to notice everything, immune to distraction. That is, until Ron asked where the wizard's chess was kept.

He, Dumbledore, and Harry had been rooting around in the library for probably a full hour before they found it, and immediately began eagerly setting up the pieces. Ron was excited- he'd never played anyone as good as Dumbledore before. Harry, upon watching the first few moves in their game, decided he had better just watch for a little while- maybe Ginny would be up for a game later.

"Well, it's definitely no certainty," Hermione said cautiously, "I'm just saying it could be a strong possibility."

The room was silent, but for a few rumblings coming from the floor beneath them. They could only guess what that might be.

"It's just too awful to believe," Ginny whispered. For Dumbledore to use Harry like that was unthinkable to them.

Luna spoke for the first time in their long conversation, speaking so matter-of-factly, "Well it's all rather tidy isn't it? I mean in one move, he killed Voldemort, and brought back two of the greatest wizards in history."

"And that's probably exactly what he recited to himself every night before he went to bed," Ginny said. "However much good it did, its still terrible, and I for one think he should have at least told Harry."

"That is, if I'm even right," Hermione said. Luna and Ginny rolled their eyes, knowing full well Hermione was never wrong.

"I mean," Hermione continued, "to use him as a tool to make his own horcrux seems a bit twisted- even for Dumbledore."

"Sometimes I find that the twisted in life brings us more joy than anything," Luna said. It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes.

"But how would he do it?" Ginny said, "I mean use him to make the Resurrection Stone into a-a horcrux."

"Pretty simple really," Luna said, making it look like she was lip-syncing through Hermione's open mouth, "He was responsible for killing Harry all those years ago and so he can use that to split his soul and make a horcrux. Why he chose the Resurrection Stone is beyond me, but obviously that wasn't one of his most wise decisions..."


	7. Chapter 7

The Calm Before the Storm

The rest of the reunion was spent playing wizard's chess after the girls returned from their lengthy bathroom excursion. Or, more accurately, it was spent enjoying the long-awaited downfall of Ron Weasley at the hands of Dumbledore. But regardless of the specifics, the time spent by the old gang, hidden away by the library walls, was an unforgettable one, and even as the stars began to come out and eyes began to close, the energy and warmth of companionship still hung in the air throughout the night. Dumbledore and Luna sat together, soaking it all up while the others were sound asleep.

"Am I a terrible person?" Dumbledore asked, his question breaking through a silence that had been hanging in the air for several minutes. He didn't even question that the girls had solved his tragic mystery.

"Well, sir," Luna said, "you did possibly let out some of the most powerful evil forces in the universe for your own personal gain just when the memory of Lord Voldemort is starting to fade from everyone's mind."

Minutes passed slowly by, like molasses dripping down the side of a glass, as the two forced themselves to stare out the windows in uncomfortable silence.

"But I suppose we can just chalk that up to old age."

At that, Dumbledore's whole body started to convulse with laughter. He struggled not to make too much noise and wake up the others.

"You're a special one, you know that. The world needs a couple more of you."

Luna's face became dead serious, "I'm not so sure that the world could handle that though sir."

Their laughter continued all throughout the night, lighting up the darkness of reality with a miniscule, but radiant light. Soon, the six wizards hiding in their cozy, secluded fortress would have to face the world, but in this moment, friendship was the only concern, the only item on the agenda.

In the distance, a dark cloud creeped toward Hogwarts, rumbling ominously with thunder. It would soon prove quite useful that the usual crowd of students was home for the summer.


	8. Chapter 8

Friends?

It was a feeling Harry had hoped he would never experience again — a burning sensation engulfed his forehead, the pain stemming unmistakably from his old scar. He thought it was only supposed to be like this when Voldemort was around…

Obviously something sinister was coming, but Harry shuddered to think about what could possibly reawaken his old bond with the Dark Lord. He looked around at his friends, asleep, strewn over the old library furniture, oblivious to what was coming. Harry tried to push down the pain, struggling over to a window that overlooked the entire castle. He gulped, seeing a huge black cloud hanging above the grounds. It grumbled loudly, and lightning occasionally bolted out of the dark cover. Rain, however, was not to be seen falling to the ground as it should. Instead, there was a boy, limping toward the castle slowly, looking lost and alone. His hair was all swept to one side, defenseless against the huge gusts of wind. His arms and legs were skinny to the bone, barely able to propel his apparently starved frame forward.

The look of him reminded Harry of himself really, before his adulthood. His eyes, the light blue color of which could only be glimpsed occasionally when he looked up toward the castle, glimmered with a sense of adventure, even if he was alone and lost. Harry knew he was going to have to go downstairs and unlock the door if he was to save the boy, and, looking around at his slumbering friends, he decided there wasn't any harm in swiping the key from Dumbledore's office if it meant not waking the others. They all looked so peaceful — especially Ron, muttering something unintelligible about chicken wings under his breath.

Finding the door, and sliding it open gently, Harry exited the library and made his way to the moving staircase. He couldn't help but pause very often to look around and soak up all of the old memories emanating from every corner of the building. The staircase even made its old mistake and landed on the third floor once, but Harry, tempted as he was to see if Fluffy was still sleeping soundly over whatever new treasure being safeguarded at Hogwarts castle was, knew that time was of the essence. He quickly found a new path across the stairways and began to make his way toward the grand entrance.

When he arrived, the boy was almost there too, about six feet away in the grass. When he saw Harry, he seemed overjoyed, and with renewed strength he bounded up to the doorway. "Hello! My name's Jake, I'm lost!"

"Well you're fine now!" Harry said reassuringly, opening the doors wide for Jake to enter. "Let's see if we can find you something to eat."

"Okay!" Jake said, "Thank you so much!"

The two soon found their way to the huge kitchens responsible for the always mouth-watering Great Hall feasts. Fortunately, there were no house-elves here tonight, and the place was left just to them, to experiment with the millions of different ingredients found in what would probably be better described as a cold basement than a fridge. "How about a turkey sandwich?" Harry asked, confused enough by all the different kitchen implements to understand that if he tried anything more complicated a fire would most likely ensue.

"Sure, thanks!" Jake said, "Thank you so much!" His voice was much softer now, perhaps diminished by the new fear of wondering what he was going to do next.

"No problem mate. And after this I can introduce you to all of my friends. You'll love them!" Harry said cheerfully.

Harry had always been a sucker for people like Jake — the ones lost and alone, just like he had used to be as a boy. Perhaps he would be able to take him out of that place of darkness and isolation. Perhaps they could both become friends.

Jake swallowed his sandwich almost whole, taking about two seconds to let it slide down his gullet. Harry, on the other hand, was left with his mouth open, about to take his first bite of the one he had made for himself.

"Why don't I eat on the way," he suggested.

It wasn't very long until they reached the library again, as Jake didn't even stop once to admire the building on their way. Harry was surprised. Not even the Fat Lady had given him a start.

"Hello Harry, we were worried about you!" Hermione half scolded, half welcomed the two inside. "We'd have gone out to look for you if we didn't just get Ron to wake up!"

"I told you he was fine Hermione!' Ron rebuked warm-heartedly. "How do you do mate?"

"Fine, thanks." Jake said quickly, shortly. "Where's the old one though?"

Ron, completely unaware of Jake's sudden change in attitude laughed, "The old one's in the bathroom making his morning rounds if you know what I mean!"

Alarm bells began going off in Harry's head at that point. How could he have been so stupid! "I didn't tell you anything about Dumbledore Jake."

As quick as a heartbeat, the world became completely black. Lanterns blew out, windows shattered, and the wind begin swirling like mad, throwing books into walls and everyone into full tilt. The library was like a house caught up in a tornado, everyone inside at the mercy of random fate. Only one or two books were not torn completely apart, and a couple chairs crashed into smithereens against the walls. Luna's head was smashed by a candle flying across the room, leaving a trickle of blood on her temple. Harry's sandwich even flew out the window. "GIVE ME THE RING!"

The new voice coming from Jake was clearly not his own. Gravelly and overpowering, it moved everyone in the room to cover their ears. "Hermione!" Ron screamed above it all, more alert than he'd ever been. "Where is she?!"

"THIS IS YOUR WARNING! I DON'T CARE WHAT THE FOOL IS DOING WITH THE RING NOW, BUT IT'D BETTER BE IN MY HANDS IN THREE DAYS OR I THINK YOU CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT HAPPENS!"

With that, the wind suddenly stopped. Everything swirling around the room, books, chairs, lamps, rugs, blankets, fell to the ground at the same time, leaving the library covered in rubble. Luna was clearly unconscious. Ron and Ginny were about five shades whiter than usual, both fearing for their lives. And the only thing Harry felt more keenly than fear at that moment was guilt. He could he have done that! The boy was an absolute stranger, and his scar had never failed him before, so why did he have any reason to ignore it now? He had gotten much softer since the death of Voldemort, and he let his guard down. He could clearly never let that happen again.

Slowly, a door creaked open. The remaining wizards whipped around at the sound, Ginny shrieking in fear.

"What exactly happened here?" Dumbledore asked.


End file.
